


The Shootpowder Plot

by for_t2



Series: A Brief History of Shoot [2]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: 17th Century, Alternate History, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Conspiracy, England (Country), F/F, Parliament (UK)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-30 00:10:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12642105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/for_t2/pseuds/for_t2
Summary: Shaw, one of the only women in the King's Guard, is out on patrol like usual, when her annoying partner gets a bad feeling about the buildings of Parliament.The Gunpowder Plot - Shoot style. Alternate history.





	The Shootpowder Plot

The streets were filthy. The cold November air was kinda grimy. The hours long. The Lords leering as they always did. All that, Shaw could put up with. After all, she didn’t get to be the only woman in the King’s Guards by being thin skinned. 

No, she got there by being three times as good as any man in England: faster, stronger, tougher. She had proven that quite well when she made mincemeat out of a man named Thomas, one of the King’s men who had looked at her the wrong way. To her surprise, instead of being arrested, she was given a job. It turned out the Earl of Suffolk, a man named Harold, had been impressed. And once Shaw got the job, she never looked back. 

And so you can imagine that Shaw wasn’t a woman easily bothered. Until now, that is. His Majesty had decided that Shaw was a good influence on the young Princess Elizabeth. And so he sent his scouts out to search the realm for more strong women to serve in his guard. Shaw wasn’t opposed to the concept, and she did admit that some of the recruits were quite good. A couple, named Zoe and Jocelyn, had even become her friends. 

But, of course, it was just Shaw’s luck that it wasn’t either of them that she got paired with for patrols. Instead it was her. The tall, gangly, far too affectionate, apple-eating woman who they had plucked from the middle of some godforsaken Welsh valley. 

In retrospect, it seems that there was a good reason everyone else avoided the woman like the plague. There was obviously something wrong with her. And she called herself Root. That’s not even a real name. 

“How bad can it be?” Shaw muttered to herself angrily. “I’m never asking that again.” 

“What was that sweetie?” Root asked, tilting her head playfully towards Shaw. 

“Nothing,” Shaw said, glaring at her partner. 

“If you say so,” the taller woman replied, shrugging happily, and reaching into her bag to pull out an apple. 

Shaw just glared even harder as Root took a loud bite out of the apple. 

“What? Do I have something on my face?” Root said, all innocently, before leering. “Or is it something on my lips?”

Shaw refused to acknowledge that she did in fact have a small drip of apple juice covering her lips. Instead, she snatched the apple from her briskly, and tossed it into the Thames. “You shouldn’t be eating apples on patrol.” 

The way Root’s grin got even larger immediately told Shaw she had said the wrong thing. “You’re right,” the taller woman said, licking her lips. “There’s something I’d much rather be eating.” 

Shaw just sighed, and rolled her eyes. 

Fortunately, Root shut up for a few seconds, but soon started up again, babbling about whatever random thoughts seemed to cross her head. 

It wasn’t until a few minutes later that Shaw noticed she had stopped. Root was now standing still, staring up at the Parliament buildings looking very concerned. 

“Root?” 

“I…” She said. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” 

“Wha…?” Shaw started, not able to finish before Root ran off towards the buildings. “Oh, for…” Shaw swore to herself, running after her partner. 

She finally caught up to Root, who was rapidly going down the stairs into the Parliament basements. “Where are you…?” 

“Shhh!” Root whispered, reaching down to her belt and pulling out two swords, one in each hand. Shaw raised an eyebrow at the unusual style, but pulled her own sword out of her scabbard. 

At the bottom of the staircase, they heard voices in the chambers below. In one of the rooms, they saw a few men illuminated by lamplight, standing next to what appeared to be a large stack of gunpowder barrels. 

Root frowned, and then walked right into the room, hiding her swords behind her back. 

“I don’t think you’re supposed to be in here, fellas,” she said. 

“Now dear,” an older man, clearly the leader of the group said, stepping forward and pulling out a sword. “This is hardly the place for a lady to be.” 

Shaw stepped into the room, her sword ready to fight, getting more and more worried that her partner was about to do something stupid, like get herself killed. 

The man frowned at the sight of Shaw. Root grinned savagely, revealing her two swords, and leapt forward. 

Shaw finally understood why Root had been recruited. It was like she was possessed, fighting like an elegant demon, and clearly enjoying every second of it. Shaw did have to admit it was kinda hot, and it complemented her own fighting style quite well. 

Between the two of them, it wasn’t long before all the men were on the ground, save for the leader, who had been disarmed and backed into a corner. 

“Impossible.” He said, frightened, as Shaw advanced on him.

“Now, tell us: who are you, and who do you work for?” The shorter woman said, lightly poking the man in the gut with her sword.

“I…” He started to say, before Shaw interrupted him with a harder poke.

“Name?”

“Greer,” he spat out. 

“And who do you work for?”

“You’ll never know,” he said, and he rushed at Shaw. 

Unfazed, Shaw cut him down easily. She turned to Root, who was going through the bodies on the ground. 

“Ah-hah!” Root said, pulling out a piece of parchment from the coat of one of the bodies. Unfurling it, she began to read. “Dear Jeffrey… blah blah… We must strike quickly to remove the King… blah blah… The League of Samaritan will prevail!” She looked up and tossed the letter to Shaw. “Interesting.” 

Reading the letter quickly, Shaw frowned. “We have to get this to the King immediately.” 

*****

The King had been extremely grateful. He even gave the two of them a bonus. Shaw was more interested in the promise of a fest though. 

And so the two made their way back to their quarters, where Root sighed wearily and flopped onto her bed. It was then that Shaw noticed a dark red stain on the taller woman’s shirt. 

“Hey, let me see that,” she said, gesturing. 

“It’s nothing.”

“Root.”

Root sighed, and complied, rolling up her shirt to reveal a wound where someone had nicked her with their sword. 

“You should be more careful.”

“I didn’t know you cared, Shaw.” 

“The King’s not going to be served well if his guards are limping around.” 

“If you say so.” 

Shaw didn’t say anything more, focusing her attention instead on patching Root up. When she finished, she looked up, and saw that the brown-haired woman was looking glum. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing in particular,” Root replied. 

“We just stopped a conspiracy to blow up Parliament Root. We’re big gorram heroes, we’re getting a bonus and a feast. Yet, you don’t look happy.” 

Root stared down at her, a small, sad smile. “You know, this date is going to go down in history. Remember, remember, the fifth of November, they’ll say.” 

“But…?”

“But,” she said, her sad smile turning into a leer. “I’d much rather remember this night for something else. Wouldn’t you?” 

Shaw sighed. When her partner’s mind wasn’t all over the place, it had an unbelievable tendency to focus on one thing. 

“Fine. Just this once.”

Root’s grin could have lit up the heavens. They both knew that Shaw was lying.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all had a good Bonfire Night!


End file.
